Chasing Gold
by nyet khan
Summary: AU, what if Nanjiroh had died before Ryoma made it to Seigaku?


**Disclaimer: Don't own it, isn't worth the paper to sue me--don't have nothing.**

**A/N: AU where Nanjiroh died before Ryoma made it to Seigaku.**

**1.**

"Here to join the tennis team?"

Gold-flecked eyes flickered to the woman besides him, silent and watchful. Small-boned and pixie-faced, Sumire could almost imagine another boy's cocky grin and mischievous eyes in place. A promise kept, a father's wish fulfilled. It was finally time for this particular boy's freshman year at Seishun Gakuen.

"Which way is the track team?"

"Oh…?" Brown-eyes searched the child's face for any sign that would give hint into what lay in the boy's thoughts. "That's not at all like you."

Sullen lips tightened. "Do I know you?"

Sumire nearly smiled at the familiar insolence. "Keep going straight till you see a fountain, turn right and you'll see the track. And Ryoma?...take care not to run for too long."

A sharp look was her answer as the boy turned away, cap tilted to shadow his face once more.

Sumire gave the boy one last look before turning to watch the practice matches, thoughts still far way.

"Sensei?"

"Momoshiro, I don't believe you've finished your warm-up."

"Y-yes, sensei. Right away."

Sumire resisted the urge to smile as interested violet-eyes followed the retreating figure.

**2**.

"Echizen! Hidaka! Ten laps around the track!" Bellowed the track-team captain.

Two glaring boys turned away, one to plead with his senior and the other to retreat into the shadow of his cap. Silently the younger boy started jogging, intent on ignoring the cause of his misfortune.

"Little brat." Hidaka Tarou bit out as he caught up.

Impassive amber eyes seemed to goad Hidaka once more. For the life of him the older boy could not explain how such silent eyes seemed to infuriate him so much.

"Why did you even join the track team if you're going to aggravate the 'team' part of it?" Hidaka finally asked.

Amber eyes flickered to him, vaguely surprised to find the older boy matching step but just as easily dismissed his question. Hidaka remembered again exactly why the younger boy's attitude seemed to aggravate him so much. Even silent, the freshman was irritably arrogant.

Abruptly the younger boy put on a burst of speed. Surprised, Hidaka was about to snap at the insolent boy before giving in to a rueful smile. Perhaps the boy wasn't as silent as he looked. Hidaka just didn't fully understand what Echizen was saying.

"Like I'm going to let _you _beat me! I'm Hidaka Tarou—Number Two in our track line-up and you'll have to be a whole lot better before I let a shorty like you beat me!"

Amber eyes tilted to look at him as they matched step again, amusement leaking out before the sunlight made them glow gold. Unsurprisingly Echizen put on another burst of speed.

"Little brat." Hidaka muttered as he caught up again. It would have been a lot more irritating if Hidaka hadn't realized this was the most the track team had gotten out of the apathetic freshman since day one. "You want to make a race out of this, eh?"

Captain Yamamoto Yuji sighed as the pair sped past him, competitiveness goading their laps. Hidaka was one of his best runners but couldn't help but resemble a wild filly, too easily distracted by the littlest things. Among them was one of their incoming freshmen, a quiet boy Yuji honestly hadn't thought to give much attention to. The boy—Echizen—never bothered to pay much attention to club practices to begin with. He'd never shown the inclination to test his speed against Hidaka or any other regular member; he also certainly hadn't proven he had the potential to keep up.

"Join everyone else doing lunges." Yuji signaled the two panting incomers.

"You heard the captain, squirt."

Yuji nearly laughed at the way wary amber eyes tracked Hidaka as the latter herded them to an empty spot in the line up.

Interesting; Hidaka had found something to occupy him; Yuji wondered if he should warn his teammate that that particular freshman had the look about him. If Hidaka wasn't careful he would get bitten.

**3.**

"Keep it up, squirt! Reach the top of the stairs and we'll take a break!"

Ryoma glared sullenly at his senior. He still didn't understand how Hidaka-senpai had conned him into running with him. It wasn't like Ryoma had made any special effort to being annoying. There where six other more agreeable freshman Hidaka-senpai could have taken to bothering, who'd probably consider it an _honor_ to run with the senior.

"Don't slow down!"

Ryoma ignored his senpai as the familiar thud of balls slamming the ground echoed more clearly. As always a familiar ache bloomed in his chest, suspiciously near his heart.

"You play?" Hidaka asked, following his gaze.

Ryoma scowled. "I don't like tennis."

"Hn…just as well. You're too tiny to play with these fellows."

Hidaka wasn't surprised when olive-gold eyes glared at him.

**4.**

The Temple grounds were empty, not that that was unusual. It was rare that any visitor would tour the grounds. There hadn't been a monk for a while.

A soft thud echoed as a young boy hit a tennis ball across a stone wall. Each time he looked there was no opponent, just an empty court. And each time he did so, he wondered….

…what now?

5.

He hadn't meant to oversleep. But really, he never did. It didn't help that his mother often left for work early in the morning and Nanako didn't have the heart to wake him. Which led him to his current trouble, he was late.

"Hey, kid! You're going to be late." Yelled an older boy wearing the uniform of Seigaku as he sped by on his bicycle.

Ryoma glared. "Thanks," he grumbled.

Momoshiro could never say why, only that it felt right. Like it was supposed to have happened and…didn't. All he knew was that he was supposed to stop, supposed to turn back, and supposed to offer a hand where none had been asked for. "You want a ride?"

And perhaps it had been worth it, if only to see the impassively arrogant face look startled.

"What?"

Momoshiro smiled. "You want a ride, kid? You're never going to make it on time otherwise."

Amber eyes considered him, suspicion and confusion jumbled up to betray an honest expression. "Aa…sure."

"Momoshiro Takeshi."

They were nearly at the school gates before a soft voice said, "Echizen Ryoma."

**6**.

"Why don't you try, squirt?" Hidaka taunted as he fell back from the lead, startling a few first and second years that had been huffingly trailing the regular track team.

It was almost routinely comforting when a dark head lifted to glare at the older boy.

"Run as much as you like, you're never going to get anywhere if you don't ever try."

Echizen tugged his cap lower, scowling heavily as he did so. He didn't like the sound of those words, or how they sounded so familiar. Hidaka was challenging him again and for a boy such as Echizen Ryoma, who'd been fed competivness alongside breast-milk, it was all too easy to see a challenge and instinctively try to surpass it.

"Try! Try if you can squirt!" Hidaka yelled back, never looking to see if Ryoma would follow.

Startled eyes followed him as he broke from the group, speeding after Hidaka and the more athletic club members. Every step was a reminder, a culmination of years under his father's hand. Ryoma had been an athlete all his life, naturally quick and honed even more so by years of tennis. He was his father's legacy, an unfinished work that had stagnated in the aftermath of his death. And it was such a frustratingly ugly place to be at.

Never moving, never challenging, and never growing. Stuck in a still-life with only the after image of his father's shadow to keep him company.

Hidaka had the nerve to smile smugly as a dark-haired first year caught up with him, finally breathing as if their warm-up laps actually _meant_ something.

It was a start.

"Good!" Captain Yamamoto yelled as he signaled the end of warm-up.

"Not enough, not enough." Hidaka murmured tauntingly to his shorter companion.

"Careful, Hidaka-senpai. Someone might think you're unduly harassing the first-years."

"Not if they know you."

Yamamoto-buchou was not at all surprised when he looked up to find Hidaka and the first-year Echizen glaring at each other.

"Hidaka! Echizen! Five laps!"

"…again?" Whined Hidaka. Even Echizen gave him a disgruntled look before beginning his jog. "Hey! Echizen, where do you think you're going? You still aren't trying nearly hard enough to beat me!"

"Five laps!" Yamamoto-buchou reminded with an exasperated sigh. "Around the athletic fields!"

"Aa…that's just cruel. Wait up, Echizen! Hey, I said wait up you little brat!"

**7.**

"We're going to run in the park tomorrow. Meet me at the fountain in front of the hamburger place." Hidaka informed Echizen as the former caught up the younger boy.

Ryoma gave him an aggravated look. "Why do I have to come?"

"Don't be a brat. Help your senpai out."

"You know, when Yamabuto-buchou said I was disrespectful, he wasn't joking."

"Fine, you irritating squirt, I'll take you to eat after we finish our run."

It wasn't hard for Hidaka to read the smug tilt of the boy's face.

"Ech…" Hidaka only had a second, his eyes tracking the flying tennis ball aimed straight at the back of the younger boy's head. His hand automatically reached out, too late to stop Echizen as he turned. Hidaka winced, expecting the ugly thud as it no doubt collided with the boy's face.

"Terrible control." Murmured a soft voice and Hidaka opened his eyes to see Echizen tossing the ball in the air and catching it, eyes intent on whatever hapless player had misaimed so badly.

"You're pretty quick, aren't you kid?"

Hidaka glanced to a vaguely familiar boy. "Aa…Momoshiro? From homeroom?"

Smiling violet-eyes turned to him. "Yes, you're Hidaka, aren't you? From the track team?"

Echizen gave both older boys a disinterested glance.

"Yeah, and this disrespectful brat is Echizen Ryoma."

"Whatever." Echizen shrugged, tossing the ball at the idle Momoshiro.

"You got pretty good reflexes, Echizen. Ever think of playing tennis?"

A scowl darkened his face, "I don't like tennis."

"Hey, hey, stop poaching from the track team!" Hidaka complained good-naturedly.

"Momoshiro! Ten laps!" Bellowed another senpai.

"Right away, buchou!" Momoshiro cringed. "Here, Echizen!"

Automatically Ryoma caught the flying tennis ball.

"Geez…do all buchou's sound like that?" Hidaka asked with blatant dismay.

"You're disturbing practice, please leave." Glasses glinted in the afternoon sunlight as the tennis team captain signaled them out.

"Aa…sure."

A sullen face tilted to look at the captain head on. Amber eyes studied him for a second, a hint of challenge flaring briefly before being snuffed out just as quickly. "Whatever."

Echizen raised his hand to toss the tennis ball.

"Keep it."

"…what?"

Impassive brown eyes studied him before turning back to the court. "Keep it till you figure out what's it for. Now, please leave."

Hidaka turned baffled eyes on his running partner. "What does he mean by that?"

Vexed golden eyes glared at the retreating captain, irate at being read so carelessly. "Whatever. I'm going home."

Hidaka refrained from commenting on the angrily clutched tennis ball still in the first-year's grip.

**8.**

"He's back again."

Oishi glanced at Fuji before following the latter's eyes but didn't see anyone…particular enough to have caught the tensai's interest.

"Who's back again?"

Fuji just gave him one of his deceptively innocent smiles. "Saa…do you think Tezuka's irritated?"

Oishi shrugged as Fuji changed the subject, not at all inclined to press the prodigy. "We're struggling too much in the district tournament. Even if we are better than most of the teams out there, our team doesn't have the same desire they do. I suppose it would irritate Tezuka that some of the regulars are still struggling with the right mindset."

"Humm…all we need is the right push. I wouldn't worry over much, one way or another it will find us."

"Fuji?" Oishi eyed the tensai curiously.

Fuji just smiled.

**9**.

The courts were nearly empty save for a few stranglers. Of to one side Ryuzuki-sensei and Tezuka gestured over a several sheets spread over a portable table. Next to them, Inui Sadaharu explained the latest data collected on several rival tennis teams.

"Saa…do you want to play a match with me?"

Startled olive-gold eyes turned to a smiling upper classmate.

"What?"

"They'll be here for a while yet. In the meantime, why don't you play a match with me?"

His mouth opened, ready to let loose his customary denial. But he hesitated. What was it that he wanted? It was frustrating being stuck, being unable to grow…was tennis meant to end with his father? It was nothing he'd ever wanted, certainly nothing that his pervert of a father could ever have hoped for. They had both lived for tennis…And Ryoma was not content to let it die with his father.

It was true…Ryoma didn't like tennis.

"Sure."

He loved it.

And somewhere between the second the tennis ball was speeding toward his opponent and the moment before his feet touched ground, Ryoma found tennis again.

"I'm still…mada mada da ne."

Sumire looked up, startled as she heard the sound of a match long after the end of practice. Tezuka frowned, quite aware of some of Fuji's more questionable habits. But still it was unlike him to invite a match and anyone that had managed to end up on the other side of the court opposite Fuji had probably irritated the tensai.

"Wait…" Sumire said. "Let them find the game…"

Silently questioning the sensei's decision, Tezuka studied the small freshman as he stubbornly returned smashes. And then it happened.

Fuji missed.

From across the net, the freshman and Fuji shared contented smiles.

"3-4, game to the freshman." Inui commented after a while.

"That's enough, Fuji, Ryoma." Ryuzuki-sensei said as she stepped on to the court.

Amber eyes glared golden and this time the challenge in them did not fade.

"I was making a comeback…" Was the petulant response.

Her hand tossed messy dark-hair, deliberately ignoring the ruffled indignation of the younger boy. "I'm locking up the courts, Ryoma. Join the tennis team and Fuji might consent to allow the end of the match another day…"

Gold eyes met blue as two boys studied each other with interest.

"Perhaps…" Fuji nodded gracefully.

Ryoma shrugged, head nodding his wordless acknowledgement before quickly disappearing.

"How good is he?" Inui asked his coach once the boy was gone, having noticed her more than casual familiarity.

"Aa…he is talent; In America he won four Jr. Championships before abruptly quitting tennis. Supposedly he hasn't picked up a racket in a little over a year, at least not against anyone else."

"Why did he stop?"

Warm brown eyes looked past the tennis courts, starring into memory half-fond, half-sad. "His coach died."

"How long have you been waiting for him to play?" Tezuka asked quietly.

Sumire gave the tennis captain an amused glance. "Since the minute he stepped into Seigaku."

"This…this will be interesting." Fuji said with a smile.

"Yes…it will be." Tezuka finally agreed.

Ryuzuki-sensei laughed.


End file.
